


Essence of an Angel

by draechaeli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 02:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draechaeli/pseuds/draechaeli
Summary: This is a birthday present for tabulaxrasa. We were talking about this plot idea back when S10 was going on, and neither of us wrote it. I'm a few days late in gifting this. But I hope tabulaxrasa and everyone likes it, it came out shmoopier then I had expected.Alternative season 10 starting a bit in episode 17 and changing the end of 18.Metatron does know a cure for the Mark of Cain-- the Essence of an Angel. And since they had just burned all their bridges with the Angels; what with removing Metatron and setting the Bobbys free of their heavens. Castiel will have to step up to the plate to save Dean, not that he would let any other Angel do it.Despite how much this sounds like a PWP its explicit while still light (and wordy)





	Essence of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tabulaxrasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/gifts).



> Author’s Note: This came out like a thousand times sappier and shmoopy and profound then I had expected it would when I started it. So the porn part is explicit but I feel it has this soft-core feel to it. 
> 
> This has the potential to be longer than a chapter
> 
> There are some lines directly from the episode S10E17 from: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=105&t=17597 and the ones from Episode S10E18 from: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=105&t=17821

Essence of an Angel

He chuckled, annoyingly and yet also evilly. “It’s called leverage boys,” Metatron practically sneered, “learn it, live it, love it.”

Castiel glanced at Sam and with a nod from the mortal the angel, tipped the Scribe of God’s head back and pulled out Metatron’s Grace. Castiel let go of the new-mortal’s hair and healed the Scribe’s neck. Before Metatron could really do anything else Sam shot him.

Metatron was down on one knee moaning in pain and clutching his bleeding thigh. The Angel of the Lord bent down and said, “We have your Grace, Metatron. You're mortal now,” Castiel stood back up a sort of vindictiveness rose in him, “So you will answer our questions, or Sam will, um...” all the times that Metatron had been a condescending prick rose in his mind, “What's the phrase?” Castiel drew it out, acted like he didn’t know the words that hadn’t been there before Metatron had uploaded the entirety of Earth’s literary works to his brain. “Blow your fricking brains out.” Another pause for emphasis and effect, as Castiel stepped back over towards Sam. “It's called leverage, Metatron.”

“Learn it, live it, love it,” added Sam, the same sort of hate/anger that only Metatron could produce in a being reflecting in his voice, he cut to the meat of the matter, voice firm. “How do we get rid of the Mark?”

“I-I don't know. I don't know!” exclaimed Metatron, Sam raised his gun again and the Scribe quickly added, “No, I-it's old magic… God-level magic. Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?”

Castiel questioned, Metatron was hiding something he was sure of it. “What about the tablets?”

“No, Th-there's… there's nothing in them about the Mark,” replied the shorter male.

Sam’s body seem exasperated and annoyed before he queried, “So when you said ‘The river ends at the source,’ that was…”

The Scribe of God interrupted, “I was just making up crap, trying to buy time till I could screw you over…”

“No,” murmured Sam firmly, disbelievingly.

“What?!” asked Metatron as if he couldn’t fathom Sam’s disbelief, “It worked before.”

“He's telling the truth,” cut in Castiel.

“What?” questioned Sam.

Metatron almost relaxed, then Castiel commanded, “Shoot him.”

Without thought, breath, or even time Sam cocked his gun. Metatron pleaded and gave in, “No, no! There is one thing that will remove the Mark of Cain, it is sort of like the source. The Essence of an Angel.”

The hunter shifted his gun minutely away, not far enough to allow an escape but away, and replied, “Well, good thing your Grace is in a bottle then, isn’t it?”

“Not that type of essence you moron,” sneered Metaron followed by a chuckle, “your funny little monkey brains think about this most of your days and yet you don’t understand when someone talks about sex!”

Sam shot the sand by Metatron’s foot he could feel the heat from the bullet in his toes, swore he could hear a sizzle from the sand and explained the facts of giving Angel Essence to a human, “An angel in a male vessel, needs to get an erection, which is actually harder than you might think to achieve, then he’ll need to copulate and ejaculate in the human that bares the Mark of Cain.”

Castiel could tell that Metatron was leaving something out, but before he could question anything Sam said, “Dean won’t go for that. He’ll think it is a joke.”

“We could bring Metatron to Dean,” suggested Castiel.

Sam thought a moment, he looked from one Angel to the other. “Is Metatron telling the truth Cas?” when Cas nodded the hunter added, “I’ll record Metatron on my phone we can show the video to Dean.” He shifted, gun still steady as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. There was a pause where Metatron was thinking of attempting to run away as Sam pulled up his camera and switched to video. Gun and Camera raised at Metatron the atmosphere told Metatron he was supposed to repeat the ‘Essence of an Angel’ bit. Metatron didn’t say a word.

A dark look fell over Castiel’s face he stalked forward crouched down and squeezed Metatron’s wounded thigh, the angel’s fingers got covered in blood as he growled, “Speak, how do you remove the Mark of Cain?”

Metatron howled in pain and shouted out, “The Essence of an Angel!” Castiel let go of Metatron and backed off towards Sam, the shorter man heaved for a moment and laughed in one of those ‘in pain’ laughs then he continued, “What you have to do Dean-o, Dean-a is get an Angel in a male vessel to sodomise you until he fills you with his essence. And you can’t get on your knees and just suck off your boyfriend… now that I think about it, how do you still have the Mark? Are you waiting for your wedding night for your husband to—“

“That’s enough!” snapped Sam, “Cas is he telling the truth still?”

“Yes,” replied Castiel looking at Sam and the camera, “Metatron is telling the truth about the Essence of an Angel being able to remove the Mark of Cain.” Sam nodded, stopped the video, and clicked off the phone before replacing it in his pocket. When he was done he looked at Castiel and the Angel moved back to his place beside the hunter, he looked at the pathetic, bleeding, still laughing Scribe of God. “Shoot him.”

Sam’s gun rose for a kill shot. Metatron scrambled and almost toppled over. “No, no wait! Your Grace. I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it.”

“It's your call, Cas,” replied Sam not lowering the gun.

To sweeten the deal Metatron added, “You won’t have a magical healing cock without your Grace. Do you know any other Angel’s that will help you with _this_?”

Just like that it was decided as they moved to the car Sam said, “I’ll keep looking for another cure for the Mark, if we can’t find anything by the time you get back with your Grace, we’ll talk to Dean about this… Essence of an Angel cure.”

~*~

“But I can't do it without my brother,” stated Sam true like an oath, “I don't want to do it without my brother. And if he's gone, then I don't...”

“I-I got it. I do,” answered Charlie.

They were silent for a pregnant moment, Sam glanced down at his phone for a moment and then looked up at the young redhead. “Cas and I, we found another cure, Dean won’t like it. It won’t work unless Cas gets his Grace back, that is what he’s doing now. I said that I would look for an alternative in the meantime, so your phone call was well-timed.”

“So this other method, is it from a worse source than the Book of the Damned?” asked Charlie.

“Metatron told us, Cas said he was telling the truth,” replied Sam.

“Metatron Scribe of God? Sounds like a more solid source than crazy nun flesh book,” commented Charlie.

Sam chuckled but then got serious, he picked up his phone and pulled the video up. “The problem isn’t so much the source of the cure, but the cure itself.” Charlie moved so she could see the phone and then they watched the video.

“Does Dean not like Cas?” asked Charlie.

“It’s the gay thing I’m worried he’d have a problem with it,” replied Sam.

“Really? Because you know, from what I’ve heard when Cas is mentioned… it sounds like they are on their way to married, so if the cure is real than they are firmly in the pre-slash arena. He put it crudely but it sounds about right.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “I think the problem is voicing it out loud.”

“He talked me through flirting with a guy!” exclaimed Charlie.

“I couldn’t tell you, Dean spent a lot of time alone with our dad and in Roadhouses. Most Hunters are cool, but not everyone in those type of places are. Would you do it? If you had the Mark of Cain, and were told this was the cure, would you do it? You never flirted with a guy, so I’m assuming sex is out as well. It doesn’t matter if the Angel seems feminine the human vessel has to be male.”

Charlie was quiet and thoughtful for a long moment, she mulled it over in her head. “It would have to be a friend, and I’d probably have to close my eyes, but to get rid of the Mark I could do it once, probably. Just lay back and think of ScarJo, right?” she ended with a chuckle.

With a snort Sam replied “Don’t we all,” he let the mirth die and then added, “alright, let’s see how Dean feels about the book when he gets back. We need Cas for the Essence of an Angel plan anyways, so we’ll tell him them.”

“If saying it out loud is the problem, why don’t you just arm Cas with the video and lube and have him tell Dean,” suggested Charlie.

There was a pause and then both said: “You’re buying lube!”

In the middle of their Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock competition to decide who would buy the lube for Cas and Dean. The elder Hunter burst through the door in a rage about the Styne family. And there in the attack with holy oil in the fire Sam hesitated but had faith in Castiel so he threw the Book of the Damned into the fire.

It didn’t burn as much as they hoped it would, of course it didn’t. Charred cover, a few pages and the rest were blackened and ash thin in appearance as if touching them would make them disintegrate. They raked out the ashes, all of them just in case, filled the warded box and left for the Bunker.

Castiel called he was returning with his Grace. Sam stayed behind at the Bunker to open the door for the Angel, while Charlie and Dean went for pizza and beer.  But really Charlie had lost and had to go and get the lube, especially now that Castiel had his Grace back, which is why the brothers hadn’t gone on the food run together.

Sam and Castiel were worrying over the loss of Metatron when the foragers returned. Despite the gunshot wound Charlie was exuberant, and Sam quickly spirited the beer away to the refrigerator where they didn’t stay long and the lube to a place he was sure Dean wouldn’t find it.

They ate their meal triumphant over destroying the book, the death of the Stynes, and though Dean didn’t know they had another method to quell the Mark, he seemed relaxed and carefree for at least the as long as there was pizza and beer. They lingered over the food laughing and drawing it out. Even with Castiel healing Charlie, she waned before the others. She got up from the table and headed towards her room in the bunker. “Don’t forget to wear your wrist brace,” called Castiel as they watched the young redhead retreat. She waved a hand back at them in way of answer.

A sort of quiet melancholy came over Dean he looked at the spot where his beer bottle met table top as if it held all the answers he would ever need. He stood up without a word and went over to the liquor cabinet debated and then pulled out a bottle of Jack and head out and down to his room.

The hunter and the angel sat for the moment in silence and then Sam got up a pulled out a nicer higher-alcohol content bottle of cognac and the lube from its hiding place. Sam put both before Castiel on the table. “When Dean first mentioned how dangerous the book was, Charlie was determined to help Dean, so I told her of the Essence of an Angel option. But I think since sex isn’t something that you want to talk about with your siblings that it would be better if you present this cure to Dean alone. I’ll send the video to your phone, we got you lube, and take the cognac too in case Dean starts to panic.”

Castiel studied the hunter for a long moment when the angel didn’t move or offer an opinion Sam asked, “Do you not think this is a good idea? Do you not think you’ll be able to do this with Dean? Do you know _how_ to do this with Dean?”

“I understand your reasoning, I am not sure I know what to say to Dean; but I believe I can do this and know how to do this without hurting Dean unduly,” replied Castiel.

“Alright,” said Sam licking his lips, “good, I’ll… I’ll send you the video of Metatron.”

The video was sent, Sam made sure that Castiel received the video and knew where it was on his phone before the hunter got up and went to bed. Castiel lingered in the kitchen for a while. He picked up the cognac and brought it back to the cupboard and pulled out a nice Tennessee Whiskey and a bottle of Jägermeister. He placed them in one of the plastic bags that the beers had come home in, he added the remainder of the six pack that had been in the refrigerator (four beer, of a different brand than the one they had drunk that night). Phone, lube, and alcohol in hand, Castiel moved towards the bedrooms. He went to the one that he had been given first, not that he really slept. The angel placed his burdens on top on the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He was a creature of habit, he didn’t have that many clothes. From the bottom drawer he pulled out an issue of Busty Asian Beauties, a packet of beef jerky and a couple of mini-pies, he looked at the packaging they wouldn’t expire until after the final apocalypse. Pies and jerky made their way to one of Castiel’s jacket pockets and the magazine in another. He double checked that the letter from Bobby to Dean was still in his pocket, then beer in one hand and the plastic bag in the other Castiel left his room and made it down to Dean’s room. Shifting the beer to his other hand he knocked on the door. “Dean I need to talk to you, can I come in?”

There was the sounds of someone moving around: glass bottle being put down, someone standing, walking, getting tangled in dirty laundry on the floor, and the door knob turning. Dean opened the door and looked at Castiel for a moment with his serious yet blank look. Dean opened the door for his friend. “‘Course Cas, come in.”

Castiel walked into the room and took it all in. It wasn’t the first time he had been in the bedroom, but this time his mind catalogue how it was identical to his room and yet while his appeared to be unlived in Dean’s was sparingly and lovingly decorated. The clothes that had tangled Dean on his way to the door, appeared to be socks, shoes and the flannel outer shirt that he had been wearing earlier.

The Angel took a seat in the chair in the room and waited for Dean to take a seat as well. The hunter sat on his bed within reach of the open bottle of Jack. They sat and looked at each other for a minute. Castiel put down the beer and the bag, while he gather his thoughts.

“I need to tell you something Dean,” started Castiel, “I believe that some parts of it will make you upset,” here Castiel paused when Dean shifted, he reached down for a beer and handed it to Dean. Dean took the beer looked at it than back at Castiel, the Angel continued, “If you listen to everything I’m sure that you will understand,” the normally stoic man handed over the beef jerky, “or at least not stay mad.” And with those words the pies found their way into Dean’s hands.

The Hunter looked at what his friend had brought him and chuckled. He tossed the food onto the bed and popped the beer cap off, he put his beer down on the nightstand and ripped open the bag of jerky. “I’ll do my best.”

The darker brunet nodded and took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Sam called me, he wanted my help to get a hold of Metatron so we could question him about the Mark. We kept it a secret because we didn’t want to get your hopes up and we figured that Metatron wouldn’t talk if you were there. The Angels wouldn’t help us, but Sam had found a medium and he helped us contact an inside man in Heaven to help us open the door so I could get to Metatron,” Castiel paused and pulled out the letter and handed it over, “Bobby helped us.”

Dean scrambled to open the letter, when he saw the familiar handwriting he had to pause and take a gulp of beer. The letter sounded like Bobby full of everything he would expect, and then at the end it asked that Dean forgive Sam and Cas for leaving him out of the jail break for they all loved Dean and wanted him to get better. The hunter finished his beer held out his hand for another, which Castiel provided.

“Alright, go on with your story.”

“We got Metatron out of heaven, we took his Grace and Sam shot him in the leg before we questioned him. He had a cure, but for it to work I would need my own Grace so we didn’t want to mention the solution if I could not get my Grace back. Sam said you wouldn’t believe us so we made Metatron repeat the cure and recorded it. Sam says that you won’t like, and Metatron didn’t… pick the nicest words to describe the cure.”

The video was brought up on Castiel’s phone and held out for Dean. The mortal reached for the phone and paused. “Is it worse than using the book?”

“The book had an evil to it that you felt, this cure is nicer all around but there is a fading stigma against some parts of this cure here on earth. I am ready to help you in this way, but it is your choice if you don’t want to do this, we won’t do it.”

Dean took the phone and pressed play. And was almost immediately embarrassed that his brother had been there to hear this cure. That his brother probably knew that Castiel was offering this cure to him. Before he realised his beer was empty the Angel pressed another into his hand. The video had ended and he just sat there staring at the phone, he blindly groped for one of the mini-pies and ate it.

“He is really telling the truth? The Essence of an Angel will cure me?” questioned Dean.

“Metatron was telling the truth when he said that,” confirmed Castiel, he reached into his bag and pulled out the Jägermeister, “Would you like some? I brought Tennessee Whiskey as well.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve thought of everything, do you have something in that bag to help with this… cure, as well?”

Castiel pulled out the magazine from his pocket and gave it to Dean then he pulled out the lube from another pocket and placed it on top of the magazine. Dean’s eyes went wide and he laughed again. “You are prepared.”

“Do you want to try this cure?” asked Castiel studying his friend.

“I want to say that I need time to think about it, but I don’t think that is a good idea.”

The Jägermeister was pressed forward. “Would you like this first?”

Green eyes oscillated between bottle and angel, his heart-rate went up and he started to perspire. He wasn’t a stranger to drunken one-night stands, and when he was younger he had never really thought that being drunk would press both participants into the area of feeling like they didn’t have a choice. And he could admit now looking at the Jäger and Castiel in his own head, at least; that a good few of his very drunk, drunken one-night stands were because he had been thinking too much about one of the guys in whatever establishment he had been in. But this was Cas— _Cas_ , the angel that gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, his Angel. Could he sleep with him? Could he sleep with him three sheets to the wind? And then a new uncertainty rose.

“What about you? I know… that your… body could perform this cure, I remember that time when you were watching porn in the hotel. But do you Cas want to do this with me?”    

“I would do anything to save you Dean,” replied Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

“Yes, but…” Dean ran a nervous frustrated hand through his hair, he took a breath and voiced it, “if it wasn’t for my life… would you… would you want to do this with… me?”

“As an angel I don’t feel a sexual need, but I would be with you, always if I could,” replied Castiel, with more emotion than was typical that words slow and careful though clear and fluid.

Dean licked his lips, glanced down at the empty beer bottle in his hand, and then the bottle in Castiel’s hand—he had had enough alcohol. “Alright let’s do this. I don’t need another drink.” He stood up and started to collect the things that were on his bed the jerky, pie, magazine, and—lube.

“Would you like to move to my room?” asked Castiel, Dean looked back at his friend, did he really want to leave his sanctuary? The angel continued, “My bed is unused.”

Green eyes glanced around, his room was a bit of a mess, and he couldn’t say when he had last washed his sheets. So that decided that decision. “Alright good point.” Dean let the things that he had collected from his bed drop back on the unmade sheets. He re-grabbed the lube and tried to slide it into a jeans’ pocket and cursed that it didn’t really fit in the pocket well. He then moved towards the door and heard Castiel move behind him.

“Do you need this?”

Came a voice behind the bearer of the Mark of Cain, Dean turned and looked at Castiel who was holding up the gifted issue of Busty Asian Beauties. Dean’s eyes moved swiftly from the magazine to the angel and looked him up and down slowly. “No, I don’t think so.”

They made their way silently and quietly down the hall. Dean stepped aside and let Castiel precede him into the room. The angel moved over to the wardrobe and took off his coat and hung it up, he loosened his neck-tie, and then thought it would be better to gauge Dean’s comfort level.

Dean had the ‘deer in headlights’ look, and for a brief moment he panicked, but then he gathered his fortitude and brash barrelling bravery and shucked off his shirt. He brought his hand to his jeans undid the belt and hovered over the button. He tamped down his nerves once more and gave Castiel the best cocky, ‘you’re overdressed’ look that Dean could muster.

There was a flickering half-there smile on the angel’s face as he methodically removed his top layer and then both of them finished divesting themselves of clothes all together. There was another moment of hesitation. Dean fished the lube out of the pile of clothes at his feet. Castiel moved forward slowly intent on picking up Dean’s clothes and folding them over on the chair. When the Angel was finished Dean was sitting awkwardly on the bed, staring at the lube as if it held the secret to life, the universe, and everything.

Castiel sat next to him and took the lube. “We’re not really ready to go are we?” commented Dean waving his hand at his lap.

“From my understanding preparation for this sort of thing should be done slowly and carefully. We could do that first and see where we are after?” queried Castiel.

That was a new approach, Dean was used to quick and dirty foreplay before the act. But he wasn’t sure how he wanted this to go beyond them both having relatively clear heads. It was a sound enough plan. The hunter nodded. “How do you want…me?” he trailed off the ‘me’ barely audible.

“A lot of literature say that it is easiest for your first time with you on your hands and knee,” said Castiel matter-of-factly, “… but I think I would prefer to be able to see your face so I may gauge your reactions at least during the preparations.”

Dean wanted to laugh at the way Castiel had said that, but instead he scooted back onto the bed so he’d be able to lie down. The slightly shorter male followed, hesitated for a moment and then with a careful hand reached out and shifted Dean’s legs so that Castiel could settle comfortably on his knees between the splayed legs.  

The plastic protective seal around the cap came off in a defining crinkle, the snap of the cap lid made Dean jump a bit, the whole bunker suddenly felt as silent as a tomb and every movement of the Angel over Dean was a cacophony: the squirting sound, the wheeze of the bottle as it sucked in air to fill where the lube had been, the slide of skin shifting as Castiel moved, the wrinkling of the sheets below them. It suddenly stopped and green eyes met blue, the angel had a goal in mind and wasn’t sure how to go about it. A hand palm up, lube covered fingers glistening pressed into the mattress by Dean’s head, the rest of the body followed so that the darker brunet was kneeling over the other his free hand outstretched to place the lube bottle on the nightstand.

The mortal sucked in a breath, but Castiel didn’t stay hovering, he quickly settled back down on the mattress. With his dry hand he spread Dean’s legs more and with his other he slowly started probing the taller’s opening. It was slow and tickling little circles at first then a light taping right _there_ , while the other fingers of Castiel’s hand brushed the sensitive skin of Dean’s perineum, which all seemed to leave behind a sparking sizzle that teased Dean’s nerves.

With one of the taps from the wet digit before it pulled away, Dean’s body just opened up and accepted it in. With that the taping and circles turned into slow and shallow thrusts that gradually became deeper. Castiel would pull out occasionally and slick his fingers back up with the lube that was still in his hand. Twice in his slow and methodical preparations he had to grab the tube from the nightstand, but after the second time he just capped it and tossed the bottle onto the mattress by Dean’s hip.

It wasn’t Dean’s first time doing anal. It was just that with Castiel it was so much different. Kinks were typically not something that came into play on the first night, unless you were mixing sexy-car-gasms with sexual orgasms. There had been a couple, but they had known what they had wanted and so did his few actual girlfriends. But Cas—Castiel prepared Dean’s so slowly, with a hint of nervousness, uncertainty, and a whole heap of care, that it was an entirely new experience that made Dean’s heart wrench and cock thicken. The sensations were getting more are more intense and yet with Castiel’s care it was the biggest tease that Dean had ever experienced.

Dean was panting and strung tight, when it stopped, Castiel pulled back from Dean and grabbed the lube, but his fingers didn’t return when the bottle was caped again, instead he heard the slick sound of lubed flesh moving on flesh; but his brain could not connect the sound to what it would soon mean for him. Castiel moved over him again and placed the lube back on the nightstand. The angel hovered over his to-be-partner, but before Castiel could say anything, or retreat back down the mattress Dean reached up grabbed the back of Castiel’s head and pulled him down.

Castiel lost his balance in the sudden move. As Dean slammed their mouths together, their bodies slammed together and for the first time Dean felt a slick-covered cock sliding along his body. The tiny part of his brain that he had always considered to be his recklessly brave voice before that moment, told him: that it all felt good, and no one would care what he did behind closed doors, and it was _Cas_ —which was the best of all. With that thought Dean forgot to think and instead threw himself into kissing his Angel. Castiel was a good mix of nervous, careful, and enthusiastic, with plenty of give and take. They pulled apart, the angel getting his arms back under himself so he could lift away from the other male. He leaned down for one brief peck before he reached down between them and started to guide himself in. He paused and whispered, “If you become uncomfortable we can change positions.” Dean just nodded and tried to force himself to not tight up in the wrong way and make it harder for the darker-haired man or more painful for himself.

He slid in slowly in little in and out movements as the shorter male had done with his fingers. Once he was fully seated, intimately connected with Dean Winchester he let his body fall forward so they were even more completely together. Castiel slid his arms under Dean’s corresponding ones, he turned them palm up and hugged himself to his now-lover.

Dean shifted as Castiel fell over him and hugged him tight, which shifted the Angel deeper, before they settled in the embrace; Castiel’s tight intimate hug, and Dean alternating between clinging and moving his arms soothingly up and down his angel’s back. They stayed like that longer than what was needed, but it felt as if something profound had occurred, more than their first coupling, or the beginning of the end of the Mark of Cain; it was as if time had stopped and was being rewritten—just them for the rest of eternity.

But time had not stopped. And they could do so, so much more together out and in a bedroom. Dean shifted, pressed back against Castiel and with the beginnings of probably his last embarrassed and nervous blush he urged his angel to move in him.

Castiel unwound his hands from their hug and pressed himself up. He gently flexed his hips, focusing on green eyes and the rest of his lover’s face. There was no hint of pain there and as he moved he could feel the head of Dean’s dick brush against him, still hard and heavy. He picked up the pace, moving quicker in and out still keeping his thrusts deep. The blue-eyed angel put his weight on his left arm and allowed his right hand to trail down Dean’s side and to hook under the man’s thigh. He pulled up and Dean hooked his left leg around Castiel changing the angle as they moved. A few thrusts made Dean moan lowly as they just grazed against his prostate, and only seemed to frustrate him more. In frustration Dean lifted his right leg and hooked his ankles behind his Angel, it freed up Castiel’s hands so that he could use both arms to hold himself up and thrust. A moment or so later Dean gasped out as his prostate was hit. Blue-eyes narrowed in on Dean’s face and the hunter could tell that Castiel’s next thrust was more energetic and driven with purpose, the darker brunet missed Dean’s prostate but the idea and care behind the move made Dean moan. He rarely was the subject of someone’s want and care, in a way for them to get more excited at bring their partner pleasure. That feeling of being cared for, that his pleasure brought his Angel pleasure was heady and intoxicating. Dean squeezed down on the shaft in him and their coupling became wilder.

Fast almost frantic movement took over the two. Castiel would thrust and Dean would try his best to meet the movement. Dean dropped his feet so he could press them against the mattress instead. It wasn’t perfect in that Castiel didn’t always hit Dean’s prostate, but it was perfect in so many ways that Dean didn’t even notice when Castiel missed that particular button.

The Angel of Dean pulled back and almost out momentarily halting their energy. He quickly scooped up Dean’s legs hooked them over his shoulders and pressed swiftly back into the taller male. Dean groaned as Castiel pistoned his hips forward the pace punishing for long moments. The lighter-haired brunet’s body was becoming more limp and fluid and with the movement his legs fell from his partners shoulders. Castiel didn’t seem to notice but faltered for a moment to lift his right hand and use it to press Dean own hand towards the younger’s need. Dean took the hint and took himself in hand trying to match the speed of his strokes with the speed of Castiel’s thrusts.

They were still in a world that was just them, where there was no time, so for Dean it was both an eternity and a blink when he felt the final build. He was generally quiet, used to having sex in motels with thin walls, his Baby and other places where being loud during sex wasn’t the best. But those blue-eyes were staring in only the way an angel could; unblinking, drinking in every sound and facial expression that Dean had to offer. And it was Castiel—his Castiel. “Cas… Cas… I’m… Oh Cas, Cas!”

Dean came in earthshattering ropes that covered both of their chests. The warmth that splattered Castiel seemed to sap the strength from his arms and he fell almost violently forward onto Dean. Castiel slid his hand underneath Dean’s arms and gripped him once more like he had at the beginning when they had first joined he held them tight together as he continued to thrust. Dean wrapped arms and legs around his partner half-sated as his pleasure was drawn out by Castiel’s continued movements.

The darker-haired male turned his head and lifted himself just enough to kiss Dean on the lips. The kiss felt like an ‘M’ if that was possible. Thrust, kiss—‘Y’, thrust, gasp, kiss—‘D’, the pattern continued—E – A – N. There was a little whine, which neither knew who made, then Castiel whispered against Dean’s lips as he spilled, “Dean!” it wasn’t a prayer, it was an oath, pure and binding.

Time, life, reason hadn’t yet returned. Castiel shifted them on their side and reached down and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s cock that had yet to wane in interest. He moved his hand in sure movement that relayed how new and fascinated Castiel seemed to be with Dean’s dick. The lighter-haired man’s head went back in pleasure his arm clutching the upper arm of his Angel, while Castiel’s head bent forward to watch. When Dean’s world exploded again he heaved his head forward and breathed with Castiel and there they stayed as time and the world came back.

There was no shock or burst bubble, no disgust, nor regret, nor shame; it was just simply memory—there had been another reason besides them, to have come together. Green eyes opened just as blue ones did. When they looked away, it was down to the arm: Dean’s arm, the one still clutching at Castiel, the cursed arm—the arm with the flawless unmarred skin.

“The Mark of Cain is gone,” said Castiel with a hint of wonder as if he had not believed that it would work.

Dean kissed his Angel; chaste, a thank you, but it was more, it was a: ‘we’re not done’. Castiel smiled and pulled away from and out of his partner. Dean watched with lidded eyes as the other man moved around. He untucked the blanket and manoeuvred Dean around to remove the damp blanket from the bed he used it to wipe down the both of them and then tossed it in a corner, not wanting to disturb sleepers by doing laundry. Castiel moved back to the bed tucked Dean under the sheet and moved away. Dean reached out with his now-Mark-free arm and said, “Stay.”

Castiel paused, studied Dean for a moment and then slipped into the bed, he probably wouldn’t sleep but that didn’t matter. He just pulled the sheet over them both whispered to and cuddled his Dean, “Always.”


End file.
